Filling the Void
by zombievalentine
Summary: (Spoilers) Takes place after the events of the movie. Ralph's life may have changed but there's still one thing missing...
1. Chapter 1

Ralph was no stranger to wanting what Felix had.

Oh, he'd more than learned his lesson about playing hero, but it was taking him awhile to piece together what he was missing that the other character had.

Whatever it was, it was driving him to distraction, like an itch that needed to be scratched.

Following his adventure, life had improved in general for Wreck-It Ralph. His contribution to and presence in the game he was part of no longer went unappreciated. Mary, while still generally nervous around him was able to get over it long enough occasionally to offer him one of her infamous pies or cakes on occassion and even the insufferable Gene would tolerate his presence with no more than a passing glare. Of course, there were always the trips to Sugar Rush and nights out at Tappers to look forward to.

He'd even, with Felix's help, managed to build his own residence instead of the garbage heap. Each of the Niceland residents had their appartment programmed but he could always occasionally count on for an invitation to spend the night at Felix's. The man and the Sargent were always pleased to see him.

He did not need to jeapordize the arcade or dip in performance because of having a bout of guilty concscience, so his first thought was to head to the Bad-Anon meeting that week.

"Is strange to see you here Ralph. No new members to motivate though." Zangief greeted him at the door, giving Ralph a slap on the back. "But, is good to have you back. Maybe we go get drink after? Catch up?"

Ralph nodded. He sat through the Bad-Anon meeting but all that was being said by the members were things he already knew. He wasn't upset with his life, he took pride in his work, he was well-respected and had friends who understood that 'Bad Guy' did not mean he was himself a 'Bad' guy.

So what was bugging him about Felix?

He went home later and settled in at his shack and took up his old post of staring up at the appartment windows. There was Felix and it looked like his wife...were they having an argument? Well, it was none of his buisness really and...

"Hey now!" Ralph upset his bed as he crashed over to the window.

It had looked very much from Ralph's position that the Sarge had just struck Felix. Ralph looked harder, just to be sure.

There was no mistaking it now. She HAD hit him. There was Felix taking out his hammer to repair his bruised face...and then they were.

OH.

Ralph had his answer and had just learned something about Felix which was at once something he found unbelievable and wished to purge from his memory banks as quickly as possible.

It made some sense. He had a good job, he had good friends, he had his medal and his own house. He wanted companionship. Someone to share it with, as Felix and Calhoun did. He returned to his bed and lay down, wrapping his feet in the covers and thinking.

How many women did he even know?

The Sarge was easy on the eyes and loyal as could be to Felix but well he was now definitely sure he would like someone more gentle. He pressed onward.

There were the Sugar Rush girls.

Quite apart from 'girls' being something of the operative word here, Ralph could fit Vanellope into the palm of his hand. Ralph shuddered. He'd wreck something in that situation alright.

His mind was not his best friend tonight but it all seemed to add up. Most games had programmed couples. The Princess and Mario...PacMan and Ms. PacMan...Link and Zelda.

One thought of finding Zangief's silk briefs in that manky old lost and found was enough to quell the next idea before it even had a chance to start.

"No no...no no no. Definitely women."

He gave up on it for the time being and tried to clear his mind to get some rest. The next day was Saturday. Busiest workday of any week.

He awoke in better spirits and stretching, headed out to get in position for the day. In a game like Fix-It Felix Jr., it wasn't too terribly far off that he would find himself in the company of the titualr hero.

"Well heya Ralph! Good night last night?"

"Um oh yeah. Yeah, went out for a bit. Yourself?"

Felix frowned when Ralph looked away. "Are you sure, brother?"

"Nope, just fine. Thought I'd drop in on the uh - the boys at the Bad-Anon. See if there were any new members. Give 'em the old bad-affirmation, y'know. I'm sure you had a great night. I mean, not that I'd know because...I was at Bad-Anon..." Ralph trailed off.

"Sure I did, Ralph." Felix chirped, but there was real worry in his voice. "You're not thinking of game hopping again..."

They both chuckled awkwardly, Ralph with obvious discomfort, Felix with total confusion.

In a moment the screen lit up.

Saved by the quarter.

Ralph immersed himself in a world of bricks and climbing and growling and groaning in theatrical bad-guy style.

Felix watched him. Ralph took pride in his work and he liked to give the kids a show but he'd never quite seen him that intense. Something was definitely up.

At long last the stream of kids began to ebb and Felix caught up with Ralph as he was picking himself up after tumbling from the building for the last time.

"Why don't you visit us tonight. Up in the appartment. We'll watch a few cutscene s, get some cherries from Pac-Man. An' I won't take no for an answer!"

Ralph almost didn't want to. Say he was sore, make up an excuse. What came out of his mouth though was: "Sure Felix. Sounds great."

"Aw the Sarge'll be excited to see you! Remember, bring the cherries!"

Maybe he would die on the way to Pac-Man.

* * *

"Well hello there Ralph. Good t'see you! Visiting Felix?"

"Yep, yep, thanks Mary."

"Got some cherries there, I see. From Pac-Man, I'll bet."

"They are my favourites."

When her awkward pat on his leg (as far as she could reach) caused him to nearly drop the cherries, he knew he was in for a long night.

"Let's try not t'wreck the building on our day off now!" she tittered after him.

Maybe he'd survive. Add 'matronly nag' to his list of traits that didn't particularly turn him on. He took a deep breath and knocked.

"Got it!"

The Sargent answered the door. "Ralph! Good to see you, Soldier! "

"You too!"

She relieved him of his cherry burden. So far so good. No weird feelings. No sudden desire for foreplay that involved getting socked in the face. Normal pleasantries.

"Felix tells me you had a rough day today. Well I say good for you Wreck-It! Nothing like a hard day's work, I always tell my men!"

"Well you know, it's about the customers. They came to play a game with a bad guy who gives them a challenge."

"Keep up that attitude!"

"Will do." He sat down. Work was a good topic. "What's going on in Hero's Duty?"

"Getting an upgrade soon. Versus mode. You know how it is with FPS's and Storlines. If the players get all the way through the story mode they'll need new difficulties and bonus levels."

Ralph didn't, but he eagerly began to press Calhoun for more information.

They chatted about 'President Vanellope' and watched some cut scene that could have been from almost any game by the time Ralph felt his mind start to wander and Felix and Calhoun bid him good night. The couch creaked under his weight but this felt right. Was it really so bad like this? Maybe he'd just needed to remind himself. Yes, that was almost certainly all it was. Good food, good friends and a change in scenery without endangering his game.

He closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful slumber that rapidly became more pleasant in ways that made him very glad no one else could see what he saw when he closed his eyes.

However, whoever the mystery person from his nighttime visions was, try as he might, he couldn't remember her face, or what she looked like, or really how tall or short she was. Not the colour of her hair or skin.

By the end of breakfast he couldn't remember much about the dream save for the pleasant feeling he had.

He would find it again. He would.


	2. Chapter 2

"Another root beer here!"

Ralph glanced up at the sound of the familiar voice, shocked to see Calhoun at Tappers and what was more, alone. Not with Felix, not with her men. "Uh, hey Sarge! Felix on his way?"

"Siddown Wreck-It. I'm on a solo mission."

Ralph raised an eyebrow. Felix was an open book. If something was bothering him it would have been instantly obvious. It likely wasn't trouble in paradise. "Something go wrong with your upgrade?"

"None of your business, Solider."

Ralph normally did not backtalk Calhoun, but something in her tone caused him to look up. "Try me."

Before the Sargent could reply, two other patrons of Toppers drifted by. Even around the chatter, he could hear snatches of muttered conversation.

"...cozying up to her 8-bit pal..."

"...gonna marry the ape next if she blows it with Fix-It..."

"It must be nice to have security."

"HEY!" Ralph yelled. "You wanna say that to my face!?"

"Stand down, Soldier." Calhoun was shaking her head and Ralph reluctantly sank back into his seat.

The two who had been talking snickered, but Ralph had endured worse.

They had however explained whatever was going on with the Sargent and furthermore why Felix tended to be a homebody as of late. Times had changed since the 'Turbo' incident. Videogames long thought obsolete had moved here from other arcades, clustering and lovingly maintained around the general area of the Fix-It Felix box. The kids who had grownn up loving them had grown up themselves and men like Mr. Litiwack knew the value of 'vintage'. Their machines were handled carefully and treated with kid gloves.

Q-Bert himself had seen the unprecedented return of his own home.

Vanellope had once, if jokingly called thinking 'dangerous', but maybe the Sargent's problem was his solution.

Right now it was the new games that had to worry. Worry that they were the 'flavour of the moment'. If not that they would be forgotten when the thing with bigger and better graphics came out, it was that their character remained a vital part of the storyline. Poor Lars and Cyndi, the main duo of Alien Freaks through their second and third incarnations had been replaced by a new pair of player characters during the fourth. They'd gotten overconfident and hadn't left before the plug had come out.

Then the rent listings had gone up at Tappers. Places to hide and live in other games. The word 'glitch' was a blessing rather than a curse and fear had once again begun to divide the games. This time it was by company. You got caught in a game made by the same people who prooduced yours and a player would just think you were a cameo.

Everyone wanted to make sure that their game was safe and secure. Everyone wanted a 'cameo'. A glitch.

The Sarge had a thing everyone wanted - the opportunity to live and survive in their, secure environment. The Wreck-it Ralph box would be repaired the second it showed the slightest problem that would decrease its worth to its owner.

Home security.

"Don't worry about them. Buncha jerks, the lot of them." Ralph muttered.

Calhoun smirked. "You want to get out of here, Wreck-It?"

"Nah. You go on. I have some stuff to do here."

"Better not be gettin' loaded. I ain't draggin' yer butt home Soldier!"

Ralph shook his head. "Look who's talking." but the Sargent just snorted and pushed herself away from the table with impressive balance for the three glasses in front of her.

"See you 'round, Wreck-It." She saluted and made her way to the exit.

The villain applied himself to the remainder of his own drink. He was vintage! There was never going to be a 'Fix-It...Felicia' or something (and given what he now knew about Felix's bedroom habits, he wasn't sure he was interested). He'd just have to meet someone from another game. Someone who needed him. Someone he could help or save if their game fell victim to an upgrade.

Tappers was about to get an open-letter to the ladies of videogames.

* * *

The citizens of Niceland were no strangers by this point to the arrival of characters with significantly higher pixel counts and definition than they were. That Hero's Duty lady was, after all, Felix's wife - though Mary 'just couldn't figure her out.

They'd met Vanellope too, though Ralph usually visited Sugar Rush if they wanted to hang out. After all, she had a palace and Ralph's shack was cramped as it was, even with someone as small as Vanellope sharing the space.

This person however was not Vanellope and not Tamora Fix-It-Calhoun. In fact, she was tall and thin, dressed something like a business executive in a skirt and blouse and jacket with a scarf wrapped around her head and shades over her eyes which she had removed in the Perma-night of 'Fix-It Felix Junior'.

"Oooh, you must be one of Felix's friends!" Mary gushed. "How lovely! He always has the most interesting er...friends."

"Felix?" The lady asked, stepping smoothly from the train cart. "No, strange little round person. I am here to see Mr. Wreck-It Ralph."

The apartment patrons hopped around in disbelief. Whispers rose up from the huddle.

"What would you want with Ralph?" Gene spluttered.

"I'm here about his ad. I'm sure I would make a wonderful..." she put a finger to her chin as if searching for the right word. "...paramour? Is that too difficult for you to understand? Are you intelligent enough for that?"

Gene hit the floor. Either he did understand, or he'd shorted out from the shock of Ralph on a date. Either way, this woman was deadly serious.

* * *

AN: Thanks for the votes of confidence everyone! And Ralph, honey. That is NOT exactly the healthiest attitude to take on significant others...


	3. Chapter 3

When your name was 'Wreck-It Ralph' and your job included things such as falling in the mud and smashing buildings to bits, you were going to be built a certain way. Sure, Ralph had a boxy, clumsy frame and a bit of a gut and his hair was frizzy and despite what Vanellope liked to tell him about his apparent 'stinkiness', he bathed and brushed his teeth daily, just like...well, alright. He just wasn't completely offensive was all.

At least, that's what he told Vanellope.

"Well a'course yer not, Stinkbrain! I'm teasing you, duhr! S'amatter? You lose some of your stink braincells?" She teleported onto his shoulder. "Man, you have been acting weird all day! Weirder than normal!"

He sighed. He had been all over the game world trying to get someone to give him a dating pep talk but no one seemed like a great choice. Mario was the only guy who wore overalls and had a princess that he knew of, but trying get a time-slot on Mario's busy schedule was like trying to have a civilized conversation with a Cy-bug. Not going to happen.

Something had compelled him not to talk to Felix. He just couldn't imagine the man could tell him anything useful. He knew he would probably get the standard 'be polite and compliment her' routine from him. He would sound absolutely ridiculous trying to parrot that 'gosh-and-shucks' attitude, and...well, he just didn't want to. Besides, he wanted a relationship LIKE Felix, not a relationship like FELIX'S.

Then, there was the question of what one did on a date. Who was he going to ask? Bowser Koopa? 'Say Princess, why don't you stand in this dungeon while I breathe fire and hop around!' Most villains' experience with the fairer sex involved kidnapping or generally menacing them or threatening to eat them.

He was in way over his head.

Vanellope was his last hope and she was nine.

"Well." Ralph chewed the inside of his cheek as he tried to decide how best to approach the subject. "You know how Fix-it Felix and Sargent Calhoun got married..."

"I was there for their little luuuuuuv fest." Vanellope stuck her tongue out. "Kinda an important part of it. They made kissyface and then they started up a 2-player game!"

"Right! Right! A...a 2 player game! Y'see, some players, y'know...they always play together. Because they're friends! But then, sometimes, people try...playing with other people. I'm thinking of trying something like that, myself."

The President of Sugar Rush let out a high pitched, hysterical giggle, warping madly around her throne room. "Ralph has a girl friend, Ralph has a girl friend!"

A candycane pillar soon bore a large crack, courtesy of the harassed Ralph's massive fist. "No, Ralph does NOT have a girl friend. He's ah...going on dates. Dates. Multiple!"

Telling a nine year old was such a bad idea. Vanellope looked as though she couldn't breathe from giddy giggles, though he couldn't be sure at the rate she was moving.

"Okay, okay, okay, okay. Why are you going on daaaaaaates, multiple?" Vanellope had at least calmed down enough to speak.

"Because I'm lonely, alright?" Ralph growled.

This gave Vanellope pause. Her face crumpled and her lip began to tremble. "B...b...but you have...me! I'm y..y...your friend, right?!"

Ralph's face fell instantly. "Aw geez. Kid, listen, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings! We're still best friends, it's just you're a little young for the kind of dates I want to go on and..."

"Psyche! Hoo man you should have seen your sourball face!" Vanellope was off again.

"WHY YOU LITTLE...!" and so was Ralph.

Such. A bad. Idea.

* * *

Several hours of torment later, Ralph slammed into a seat at Tappers so hard he actually did break it. He apologized and quickly and more gently got into another one, burying his head in his arms.

"I swear I'll get Felix in here soon as I can for the stool. Just get me a drink. PLEASE!" he groaned from under his hands.

"Dude! Like, where did you get back from? The Country music festival? Total style disaster!"

Ralph turned his face to the side. "I have had a really long day, so could you just give it a rest?"

The woman burst into laughter. "So that'd be the Country Music Festival where KISS showed up? Minus a million points for mixing incompatible genres."

Great. Now he was Cross-Dressin' It Ralph to boot.

Vanellope had, in all of her pre-teen dating wisdom, not allowed him to leave without giving him a makeover.

He smeared as much of the glittery make-up off as he could. "My friend tried to...eh, never mind. Go on. Laugh it up. Don't see what you've got to laugh about though, you look like you walked out of my worst nightmare."

The woman stood up with a smirk on her pale face and swept a hand in her line from her spiked up hair, torn leather bustier, skirt and high heeled boots. "This? This is the latest in Goth Rock fashion! Y'know, 'Gods Of Rock 4'?"

"Huh? Oh right. The music-games section of the arcade. Can't really see it from the retro side."

"Oh, you're one of the 8-bit guys. Heard about that stuff. Uh, sorry. I'm Faith Facemelter."

"Wreck-It Ralph. How come we don't see you guys in here?"

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Post-show groupies, mostly. i just wanted a change of pace. How come we don't see you over in our neck of the power cables?"

"Bit far to travel I guess. I'm usually exhausted."

"Uh huh. And what do you do, Ralph?"

He sighed and waved one massive hand in a go-on sort of gesture. "I wreck the building. If I lose, I get thrown off the top. If not, I have to pound it into dust. With my fists. Felix at least gets a hammer to fix it. Least all you do is play music."

"I just play music?"

"Must be a pretty sweet gig."

Faith stood up, her eyeliner-defined eyes and black lips twisted into anger. "A sweet gig? A sweet GIG? You dare to use my language? Listen Country-Music Fashion Statement from Hell, _I_ have crowds to impress. _I_ stand under broiling hot stage lights all day long and _I _have to dance and sing and play my heart out. Accurately or no one is going to like you and you get BOOED. You try that and then you'll know some hard work! With fists your size I bet your job's not even that hard!"

With that, Faith slammed some coins down and stormed away.

"What a snob." Ralph muttered into his Root beer as he picked a lingering sparkle off his eyelash.

At least, he realized as he watched Faith's retreating leather clad back, he had some _standards_.

* * *

With relief, Ralph tottered into the station, the train jolting to a halt. He could see Felix coming towards him.

After the whole day of madness, Ralph couldn't remember why he'd ever decided to keep anything from his friend. He felt a surge of happiness to see the other man.

Felix however was not smiling. He handed a slip of paper to Ralph without a word.

"Hey buddy...what's this?"

He unfolded it. It had a string of binary numbers written on it and he scratched his head in confusion. He knew what the numbers translated to in scoreboard codes, but this was unusually high for a scoreboard code.

"I know I went to Tappers but I had only one drink. I was with Vanellope all evening!"

"Why didn't you tell me, Ralph?"

"Tell you what?" Ralph was genuinely confused.

"I knew there was something up with you, but you don't have to keep it from me!"

Ralph's temper was starting to rise. "Keep WHAT?"

"You know, at least I had the courtesy to run things by everyone when I asked Tamora to live with me. You could have given us all at least the same courtesy!"

"Live wi-" but Felix wasn't done yet.

"Not only that, but you're cheating on her! Ralph, I just don't get you. First you game hop. Then you pull out something awful impressive like saving Sugar Rush. Has that gone to your head? I just don't know you anymore, Ralph. I just don't."

With that said, Felix was off. Ralph could hear the appartment door slam behind him, followed by the tell-tale noise of Felix's hammer. Whatever had happened, it had made Felix so upset he'd actually broken the door in the offing.

Apparently it was something he had done.

Truly baffled at the tirade he'd just endured, Ralph glanced back down at the slip of paper. These weren't scoreboard codes, they were numbers. Women's source code numbers. His jaw dropped and he blinked to be sure he wasn't imagining things.

They were. He wasn't.

Shakily, he climbed out of the protesting train cart and narrowly missed mowing his own shack down as he continued to focus his attention on the paper.

He pushed open the door and let out a shout of suprise. There was someone sitting on his bed in the dark

He raised his fists. "Get out of here, I'm warning you! I'll pound you!"

There was a soft sob from the darkness and Ralph lowered his fists slowly, trying to make out who the huddled figure was. "Faith? I don't..."

Had she come to apologize?

"Listen, if it's about the bar, whatever, it's okay. People say snarky things. I've got this friend, Vanellope. Her terms of endearment for me include 'Stinkbrain'. But while you're at it, can you set things right with my friend Felix? He seems to think I'm keeping you here as my wife."

The former rockstar sniffed and smeared mascara across her cheeks. "Listen dudebro, I can't go back. I haven't got a game to go back to! They pulled the bloody plug just this night for upgrades! I'd...already left. To...to get to uh, the pub. That Tappers joint. No one else..."

She didn't need to go on and Ralph knew he would help her.

"Well. Listen, I guess you can spend the night and go back when the upgrade's..."

"There's not going to BE a game to go back to!"

"Huh You mean they..."

"The upgrades made it interactive. The players are the sprites now. There's no need for us!"

Ralph's heart went out to her. "How come you couldn't stay in your end of the arcade? It's a little strange to be hanging around an 8-bit game."

"It's different for the music games people. We have...had...everything, right in our console. A bar, groupies, wardobe, our backstage riders and instruments! A huge crowd with lots of people! There wasn't any need to leave very often!"

"Alright. Fine. I'll let you stay the night AND help you look for a game to live in, but you HAVE to tell Felix in the morning or he's going to tell the Sarge and that'll be more trouble than it's worth for me."

"You're a rad dude, Ralph." Fait sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes one last time. "So who's the Sarge? The sherriff of this backwater place?"

Ignoring the dig at Niceland, Ralph waved a hand. "Sargent Calhoun, from Hero's Duty. Felix's wife."

Faith's eyes went rather wide. "Wife?! He's rockin' a wife?"

"I know, I know, you'd never guess how they'd meet, it's a long story." Ralph shook his head, completely missing the reason for Faith's tone of surprise. "Anyway, that lady's got a mean right hook and I'm not in a hurry to take any extra pain. My job's stressful enough, despite what you seem to think."

"Fine. I'm sorry. I'm sure you've got a wicked tough job here. I'll tell your Felix and this 'Sarge' you and I aren't a thing."

A thought occurred to Ralph. He wasn't interested in this Faith and she seemed pretty up on stuff he didn't know the first thing about. "Maybe there's something else. What do you know about dating?"

"You want...a wing girl?" At the blank look she received, Faith elaborated. "Look, it's someone you're not with who hangs out with you to make you look good...or in the case of a guy, better by comparison."

"That sounds..." Ralph wasn't sure how that sounded.

"Look, I'll chat you up to other chicks, tell 'em you're awesome, make lot of coins, have a band with at least three umlauts in the name...have about fifty million groupies but are waiting for that special someone...that I've seen your really huge-"

"I GOT IT."

"...mansion." She smirked. "Right well. That sounds like a fair rider. Okay Country Music Star, you're on."

Faith lay back on the bed and Ralph groaned, hunkering down on the floor.

"C'mon, what're you doing? We can both fit!"

"But uh..."

"I'm not asking you to be a Groupie and unless your dudebro can make himself invisible, it's not a mortal sin."

Ralph wasn't sure what a 'groupie' was and he didn't want to learn, but he settled himself on the bed beside her and closed his eyes. He really was a pushover, and he wasn't talking about over the side of the apartment.

AN: Thanks for continuing to follow. As you can see, this fic contains OC's, but in much the style of the movie itself, they will be takes on or expys of real games. Eg: Faith Facemelter is a guitarist-avatar from a Rockband/Guitar Hero style of game...the Leon and Cyndi mentioned as having a nasty fate of being phased out were supposed to represent a 'Time Crisis 2' sort of title...the woman who showed up last chapter is...you'll see.


	4. Chapter 4

Ralph woke up entombed in darkness, one hand over his chest and the other resting atop a warm, breathing mass. Getting suckered into 'sleepovers' in Sugar Rush by Vanellope had long taught him not to move too quickly. The racer getting squashed could just as easily and non-lethally happen on the track by a falling cake or pie, but he really hated the guilt that he experienced when his fist was the culprit.

It took him a moment to realize that he was in his own game and the person next to him was not Vanellope as the events of the previous night to came rushing back to him.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that the lights in the apartment remained black, suggesting that it was still a few hours before the arcade opened for the day. Faith had maneuvered one of his arms as a makeshift blanket and was sleeping under it, facing away from him, a hairs breadth of space between her and the wall. She looked significantly more innocent despite her choice of clothes this way, not to mention blissfully unaware of how close she had come to becoming 2-dimensional.

He wondered what it must be like to have lost such a large scope of a world and so many people. He'd never thought about it before. If the situation with Sugar Rush had been different, and alll those candy subjects who made up the racing audiences had actually had their rightful ruler in place...and he had destroyed it...

He closed his eyes, sighed deeply and tried to go back to sleep, but his dreams were tormented by candy mutated cy-bugs.

The first light filtering in through the apartment windows finally roused him fully from both his torment and the peace of Niceland at rest.

"Faith?"

She remained asleep.

"Hey, wake up!" He shook her shoulder.

She seemed disoriented but also seemed to eventually come to realize where she was and why. Ralph swung out of bed to allow her room to move but also to avoid looking at her increasingly downcast expression.

"Remember our deal?"

"Right, right."

"If you want, you can stay here - but only in my shack, or go to Game Central. Your choice."

"I...think I'll stay here."

He figured she would say that. She seemed like she might be a bit like Felix in that regard. Someone who was always loved in her own game and very reluctant to travel outside of it for great lengths of time.

"Alright. We'll set things straight and..."

There was a sharp tap at his door. "Ralph. Almost time for positi-"

Faith had slithered by him and yanked open the door. "Yo. You're Felix?"

"That I am, Ma'am."

"Okay, let's get some shit -" Felix cringed. "-straight. I ain't banging your dudebro here. He's just been lettin' me hang 'cause I'm out of work an' he's going to help me find a new gig after hours. Step off. It was my damage that I came here, he didn't offer or anything."

Ralph had to admit that he'd never seen Felix blush like that since he talked about Calhoun giving him the 'honey glows'. He coughed into his hand to hide his snort of laughter and he couldn't help but let the handyman squirm a little before coming to his rescue

"Listen Felix, if there's anything I didn't tell you, it's that I'm doing a bit of dating is all. Faith here just panicked and I offered to help. She'll stay well hidden during work hours." he jerked a thumb to indicate his shack.

"Oh. I see. I'm dreadful sorry for your loss, Ma'am. An' I'm awful sorry for losing my cool with you too, Ralph. I wish you the best of luck in your dating endeavours." Felix still looked hurt and the bigger man had a feeling he knew what that was about.

"I didn't say anything about the dating because, well, I already fall in the mud a hundred times a day in front of a whole audience. I wouldn't mind messing up in private once in a while. Besides, I don't need competition, even if you are married! Who'd look at a lug like me, next to you?"

"Well now, I don't think that's entirely true, Ralph. Why just look at this lady here. Do you honestly think she would have came and found you when she was in distress if you didn't have just a little charm?"

Flattery always worked with Felix. Faith seemed to be either on the verge of crying or laughing again - he wasn't sure which, and from the opposite side of the screen, Mr. Litwak was crossing to the door to let in the kids for the day.

"Let's wrap it up. I'll see you at closing!" he added to Faith. She nodded and stepped into the shack, closing the door behind her and ducking well out of sight as kids and teenagers came rushing in, scrambling to be the first to line up their quarters for their favourite games.

Around lunchtime, when most of the kids departed to the snacks counter and lunchroom for pizza or hamburgers and sodas, Mr. Litwak joined his summer help girl at the Felix Jr. Box. He'd been doing that a lot ever since the Sugar Rush incident and ever since Stacey had signed on for the summer. She'd traded her glasses for contacts and she was certainly older than anyone remembered her when she had first 'unlocked the bonus level', but she was well known to the Fix-It Felix Jr. gang as the one who had very nearly (if unknowingly) cost them their home when Ralph had gone MIA.

No one in Niceland ever deviated from their normal routines when this occurred but somehow Ralph always thought that maybe Mr. Litwak and his protegé knew more than they let on. If Felix or any the others shared his idea, they did not say.

The kids trickled back in until their parents pulled them away slowly but surely and the final high-scoring hopeful trudged out at last, leaving Litwak and Stacey to clean and lock up for the night. After what seemed an eternity the only lights left came from the consoles themselves.

"All clear!" someone from the game nearest the arcade door called out.

Ralph found himself staring, not at brown work boots but rather black stilettos.

"Damn!" Faith shook her head as he picked himself out of the mud. "C'mon, you could use a drink or five."

Ralph rolled his eyes but cleared away the mud and hopped into the train car behind her as they rode to Tapper's.

"Dude, I take it all back. That has GOT to suck."

"You ah...were watching." The villain concluded lamely.

"Sure. If I'm gonna be your wing-girl, I've gotta figure out a few things about you."

Chuckling ruefully, Ralph pushed a hand through his wild hair. "How do you plan on making 'gets tossed off a roof into the mud' sound glamorous?"

In response the rocker took a swig of her beer, setting the glass down on the table. "Well, let's see here. Y'think she already knows? Who was that you were doing that shy little girl wave to?"

"Wave? Oh! No, no! That's my friend. Vanellope."

"Don't tell me you're goin' all pop ballad on me! You're sweet on this Vanellope babe, right?"

Ralph gave a yowl of pain as he snorted his drink out his nose. Rising from his mug spluttering he shook his head. "Have you gone RANDOM? She's NINE! She's the one who gave me a makeover the day we met." he added.

The response was not what he was expecting. "No, this is good. Okay, so you're like her Dad or big bro or something. That's perfect!"

"It is?"

"Oh yeah, dude. Chicks love a guy who's good with kids but doesn't have one of their own!"

"They do?" Most of the time Vanellope was a little hard to take and despite her resilience and attitude, he still did fear making her cry as hard as he did the moment he raised his fists against her car. Ralph did love his pint-sized friend, but he'd never really analyzed what their relationship really should be called.

"Trust me."

"Second of all. We've gotta lose the coveralls. Unless your name is 'Mario', the one strap broken off the shoulder is way in the realms of style never."

Ralph winced. "Tell me we're not doing another make-over."

"We'll save it. So let's see. Let's talk more about you." She picked up her drink again.

"I wreck things."

"You're strong."

"I live in a shack."

"Minimalist."

"I get angry easily..."

"Driven."

"I'm a bad guy!"

"Bad _boy._"

It went on like this. By the time that they had forgotten they were supposed to be discussing Ralph's many 'attributes' and had moved on to other things, Tapper was eying them and their multitude of empty glasses rather suspiciously. It was interesting to be out with someone who could at least match Ralph in terms of holding their drink (even if most of her 'favourite' stories happened to revolve around times when she or one of her band-mates could not). Calhoun was tough but she wasn't a drinking buddy. Always too on-edge from cy-bugs to let her inhibitions slip that much. Felix was blasted after half a rootbeer and he couldn't imagine that Gene would ever accept him quite enough to ask him around for a martini.

They wove their way through Game Central Station in a kind of pixellated blur.

"Y...know, you'd make a good drummer, man." Faith slurred out as they leaned against a graffitied wall, much to the annoyance of the surge protector, who was watching them warily, irritated at the number of game entrances their erratic course had taken them near. "Hands like that..."

Ralph merely gave her a hazy look of confusion which was lost on his companion who grabbed his arm, or rather, a part of it.

"Hey! I had a great idea, dude! Check it! A phone! Why don't you call one of the girls? Got the numbers in your inventory?"

The Wrecker blinked at her, willing the fog in his brain to clear enough for rational thoughts. "Isn't that supposed to be kind of a bad idea?"

"Nah, that's only if you break up first. Shows weakness."

"Oh. Hey!" Ralph spluttered as he fumbled the receiver that was thrust at him. "I'm not really sure I should be doing this right now..."

Somewhere through the fuzziness, something cold was pressed up to his ear and he heard a female voice.

"Hello?"

"Hello."

"Tell her who you are!" Faith hissed.

"It's...Ralph. Wreck it Ralph."

In the end, he wasn't sure how he'd gotten through the conversation, but Faith who had marginally better hand-eye co-ordination had stuck something in his inventory about a date on Monday, when the arcade was closed.

"Hey Ralph! You did it!" Faith's face wobbled at him. "Ralph?"

He did and he missed the rubbish bin, much to the consternation of the Surge Protector.

* * *

Several outlets over, just outside of a large stronghold along a dirty stretch of highway with a receiver pressed against her ear, a woman in sunglasses, an over-large hat and a business suit hung up the pay phone.

A smile graced her lips as she slapped a silencer on her pistol. She'd given up hope when her intelligence had told her the target had been running around with some gameless rocker chick, but things were starting to turn in her favour.

8-Bit Worlders were just so _SIMPLE_.

* * *

AN: Thanks for waiting everyone. Oh- I have one of those fancy tumblrs you kids are talking about now at zombie-valentine


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